


a welcomed change

by starboy_jack



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Because Fuck Endgame, Fluff and Smut, I had to end it on a sweet note guys, It fucks with Steve a little, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Pavlovian response, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short-Haired Bucky Barnes, Smut, Steve has a fucking mouth kink, WWII Bucky Barnes, WWII Steve Rogers, You know how Bucky cuts his hair for Falcon and the Winter Soldier?, if you know what i mean, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22985890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboy_jack/pseuds/starboy_jack
Summary: In hindsight, he really should have been expecting it.Sam was all smiles and crinkled eyes when he first shoved Bucky into the room to show Steve, and now Steve can’t do anything but swallow heavily as his gaze seems to be stuck on the mess of short chocolate curls that are adorning the top of his best friend’s head. He doesn’t know how long he’s staring when he manages to tear his eyes away and instead catches the look on Bucky’s own face. He’s fidgeting, eyes cast anywhere but on Steve, and his teeth are worrying at his bottom lip.--Or Bucky cuts his hair and Steve can't help but think of the war when they'd sneak off during missions to fuck in a remote location deep in the woods, and he drags Bucky into a bathroom and fucks him bent over a sink.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 122





	a welcomed change

**Author's Note:**

> You know, its been a whole minute since I posted something here. I posted an imagine on Tumblr and somebody said I should write a whole fic about it so here I am.
> 
> \- J

In hindsight, he really should have been expecting it.

Sam was all smiles and crinkled eyes when he first shoved Bucky into the room to show Steve, and now Steve can’t do anything but swallow heavily as his gaze seems to be stuck on the mess of short chocolate curls that are adorning the top of his best friend’s head. He doesn’t know how long he’s staring when he manages to tear his eyes away and instead catches the look on Bucky’s own face. He’s fidgeting, eyes cast anywhere but on Steve, and his teeth are worrying at his bottom lip.

And maybe a part of him wishes he wouldn’t do that, but that part is shut up by another part of him that’s brought back to those missions during the war. The covert operations that the Howling Commandos said they could handle.

And they were right. 

They were easy to finish, small little things that honestly anyone with no experience could do. And maybe that’s why it was so easy for Steve to pull Bucky away from the rest of the group, for them to sneak off into a remote part of the woods they were in, long enough for the tall blond to pin the brunet up against a tree and attack his mouth with his own, roughly, nipping at Bucky’s bottom lip, catching it between his teeth as he sucks it between his for just a split second before releasing it. Because he knows, he _knew_ , what made Bucky tick, what set him off.

He knew what made Bucky melt, what made him moan and gasp loudly into his mouth, what made him come untouched. 

Sometimes all it took was one hand at the base of his skull, fingers threaded through his short locks, the dirtied digits pulling, yanking, and when Bucky’s head snaps back, Steve can easily see the way his throat bobs when he swallows roughly, the way his grey blue eyes glaze over, and the tears that have made drying streaks down his cheeks. He looks so fucked out, that Steve can’t help the way he growls low in his throat, can’t help the way he roughly shoves him against the tree, bark digging through his thin undershirt as he fucks up into him. He can’t help how he sharply tugs his collar to the side, hearing a satisfying rip, as he sinks his teeth into the space where his shoulder meets his neck.

He can’t help the almost animalistic way he follows as the grip he has on Bucky’s hips tighten to the point of bruising, and a sadistic part of Steve can’t help the zing of pleasure that shoots up the column of his spine when he imagines the finger shaped bruises he’s not undoubtedly left.

And the Howling Commandos aren’t- _weren’t_ \- stupid. They knew something was happening between them, especially when it was only the group of them, and it was more than once that Bucky left the tent in the early hours of the morning, looking thoroughly fucked, with the way he shuffled awkwardly and slowly, and how the top undone buttons of his undershirt would show the dark bruising marks Steve had left the day before.

But Steve couldn’t help himself, not when Bucky looked the way he did. That perfectly red mouth, how good it looked stretched around his cock, grey blue eyes staring up at him through long wet lashes, pupils so blown out that his irises were only a ring of color contrasted to that black. How sinful he looked down on his knees, that still sweet red mouth kiss bruised and pliant.

Steve is sure he won’t ever be able to get enough of the way Bucky looks when he’s been fucked so nice and thoroughly. The way his eyes are glazed and half lidded, unfocused and hazy, the marks that cover as much of that smooth, soft golden skin as he could get, _Steve’s_ marks. The tussled look of his hair, curls damp and pressed against his skin. 

Back home, or even back in public, Bucky was a flirt to all of the girls, straight white teeth flashing behind those bright red lips whenever he grinned at them. The way his mouth stretched into a smirk always had a dame swooning. His hair pressed neat and flat, curling whenever he got moving, got dancing with one of them. How _good_ he looked in his uniform, and all Steve could do was clench his jaw shut, shove down the jealousy that threatened to rise heavy in his chest.

Because those girls had _no_ idea what Bucky was like behind closed doors, away from open, watchful, and judging eyes. Eyes that scrutinized everything you did. They picked you apart in everyway they could, but Steve wouldn’t let them see. Wouldn’t let them know, not even a _glimpse_ . Because the way Bucky looked underneath him, chest heaving and breath coming out in huffs and pants, was a sight only _he_ could know.

Bucky was a tease, but for only so long. He loved to move against him, catch his bottom lip between his teeth because he knew _exactly_ what it did to Steve. He’d act all innocent, but he knew what he was doing when he’d slid into his lap one time when the Howling Commandos were out drinking alone, knew exactly what he was doing when he’d, on occasion, shift, squirm, press his ass right against Steve’s crotch, and bite back a smile when Steve’s hands would grip his thighs in warning. He’d stopped for a bit after that, but soon enough, he was shifting again, pressing right back against his crotch, and he most definitely relished in the almost growl in Steve’s voice when he’d leaned in close next to his ear and told him to knock it off.

But Bucky hadn’t knocked it off, had he? No, of course he hadn’t.

In fact, he hadn’t knocked it off until Steve all but shoved Bucky out of his lap, stood, gripped the brunet’s wrist roughly, and pulled him into the bathroom, and fucked him in the bathroom stall.

That had been risky in and of itself, Steve knew, but he also knew how much he’d gotten off to how he’d put Bucky in his place when he shoved him face first against the wall of the stall, fingers on his throat in an almost dangerous grip.

(And he wouldn’t admit it, but he also couldn’t help the pleasure he felt at the risk of being caught.)

Steve hadn’t realized just how long he’d been in his head when Sam’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Focusing back, he sees how Sam gives a light smack to Bucky’s back, and watches how he jumps a little before scowling and shooting Sam a glare.

Steve clears his throat, feeling the weird dryness when he swallows.

“It uh- looks good, Buck.” And those grey blue eyes are on him, hopeful and wishing.

“Really?” He can’t help but notice the smallness of his friend’s voice, and gives a soft smile when he nods.

“Course it does, jerk. Just like the old times.” And really, why did he say that?

But he supposes it’s fine when Bucky gives him a small smile of his own, tentative but sincere, and _God_ , that mouth is doing things to him.

And if Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think the look Sam was giving him right now was a suggestive one, and hell, maybe Steve _didn’t_ know any better.

So when Steve sees him next, it’s an almost Pavlovian response when he pulls him into the nearest room, which, Steve thinks funnily enough, is a bathroom. A half bathroom at that. One with just a toilet and a sink, and Steve isn’t exactly in control of his brain when he pushes Bucky up against the sink when the door is shut and locked behind them. His friend is wide eyed as Steve leans in to nip at the line of his jaw and Steve pulls away, avoiding his gaze, but Bucky just pulls him back against him, pressing an open mouth kiss to the underside of his throat. 

Steve lets a small moan slip past his lips, before he presses them against that red mouth. Bucky’s mouth is soft, pliable against his, and he lets his lips part for Steve to lick into his mouth, drawing gasps and whimpers out of him.

“Yeah?” He whispers against him. “You want more?” Bucky nods, fingers trembling as he clutches the fabric of Steve’s shirt. He lets his mouth trail to his neck, nipping gently, enough for Bucky to gasp, tugging him closer and letting his head fall to the side. 

“Steve,” he whimpers. “Please.” 

He hushes him, before sucking harshly at the skin of his throat. Pulling away, he bites his lip at the way the dark colored bruise contrasted against the gold of his skin. He shifts; The sweatpants he was wearing were decently loose, but they were quickly getting tight, and he swallowed.

“Baby,” he murmurs, cupping Bucky’s face. His pupils were blown out, black quickly consuming the grey blue pools he loved to look at, and Bucky grips at Steve’s biceps, trying to pull him closer. “I got you, I got you,” he whispers, pulling him into a kiss. Bucky lets out a whimper, sliding his lips against Steve’s. 

And Steve really did mean it when he said his mouth did things to him. Because the way those soft lips felt against his, the way they slid against his, felt like heroin, it was addicting. He couldn’t get enough of his taste as he tugs him closer. His hands trail down the length of his body, sliding down to his thighs. He grips them, tugging them up. The brunet must get the hint, because he hops up on the sink, before wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist. He groans, tugging at the hem of the soft shirt he was wearing, and the realization just hits that Bucky was wearing _his_ shirt. The soft threaded shirt that he liked to wear to workout in occasionally. 

And fuck, why did _that_ do things to him? 

“Baby, you have no idea what that haircut is doing to me,” he admits. Bucky lets out another whimper and tries to pull him closer, and Steve lets him, pressing his mouth back against his. The kiss is sloppy, messy, but searing, and he can feel Bucky’s arousal pressed against his front. And that heats him up, makes his own cock fatten up the rest of way in his sweatpants, and he can’t help the soft growl that sounds in his throat. Because Bucky looks so good, looks so fucked out already and they’ve barely done anything.

Steve wants more.

So he slides his hand up to rest against the back of Bucky’s head, threading his fingers in the soft short locks, and he hears the way Bucky’s breath hitches. He tightens his grip, liking the way Bucky gasps, before tugging his head back to expose the column of his throat. He can see the bob of his throat as he swallows before he’s leaning in, biting, nipping, and sucking roughly at the show of skin. He feels his hips twitch, buck up against his, and his name spills past those sinful red lips of his, and Steve’s so aroused, he’s dizzy.

Letting go of Bucky’s hair, he trails his mouth down, tugging at the collar of Bucky’s - _his_ \- shirt with his teeth. His fingers find the hem of the shirt again, and it’s quickly tugged up, over, and off of Bucky, before it’s tossed somewhere on the floor. And Steve is treated to the almost mouth watering sight of Bucky shirtless. The way the dusky pink of his nipples are already taut and hardened, the way the muscles of his stomach are twitching, trembling, and his pants are riding so low on his hips, he can see the v that dips into the waist band and the trail of hair that leads and gets cut off halfway down.

Steve can see Bucky’s chest heaving, and he decides to stop teasing, stop taking his time, because fuck, Steve wants Bucky so badly. So he leans down and captures a nipple in his mouth, and Bucky throws his head back, whining loudly. And that sounds delicious, so Steve worries the bud between his teeth and takes pleasure in the sounds that spill from Bucky’s mouth. He lets the nipple fall from his mouth with an almost pop, before he’s quickly on the next, treating it the same way he did the previous.

And by now, Bucky’s whole body is trembling, and he’s whimpering, so Steve takes pity on him and finally moves on to the button of his jeans. Those sinful, tight, jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, and does an insane amount of inappropriate things to Steve. With the button undone, he’s impatient, and Steve quickly tugs the jeans off, along with the tight black boxer briefs he’d managed to hide underneath those damn jeans.

With nothing to cover him, his cock bobs freely, flushed and curved towards his stomach, beading at the tip. Steve is quick to wrap his hand around it, swiping his thumb over the head, and Bucky cries out, throwing his arms up to cover his flushed, heated face. Steve smirks, giving him a few strokes before he lets go and works on removing his own clothing.

His shirt comes off and Bucky’s putting his hands everywhere, thumbing at his nipples and Steve lets him, giving soft groans at the small sparks of pleasure.

With Bucky focused on his chest, he makes work of his sweatpants, shoving them down to his knees along with his boxer briefs, before kicking them off the rest of the way, before he remembers, and groans, pulling away from Bucky to reach back into the pockets of his pants.

He fishes out a small bottle of lube and a condom - okay so he maybe planned this, _sue him_ \- before standing again and crowding up against Bucky.

He spends the next few moments just kissing him, loving the way Bucky’s mouth felt against his, before his cock gives a twitch, and he pulls away to crack the lid of the lube open, and squirting a generous ~~too much~~ amount onto his fingers, before he’s dipping his hand down past Bucky’s aching cock and balls, to where the pink furl of muscle of his entrance sits, and he traces his finger around the ring a few times, massaging, waiting for it to loosen a bit, before he’s pushing a finger in, and Bucky’s gasping, arms coming up to wrap around Steve’s neck, and Steve enjoys the pleasant coolness of his vibranium arm against the back of his heated and flushed neck for a moment, before curling his finger.

By then, Bucky’s gasping wetly against his ear, and he takes a minute to slide his finger in and out of him before slipping another one in. 

“ _Fuck_ , Steve!” The blond gives a chuckle, sliding both fingers in and out, curling them on every thrust out.

By the time Steve’s got three fingers curling in and out of him, Bucky’s begging for Steve to fuck him, and as much as Steve wants to keep teasing, his cock is aching and throbbing between his thighs. So, he grabs the condom from where he placed it on the sink behind Bucky, tearing the packet with his teeth and rolling it on. Snapping the lid of the lube open again, he pours a bit into his hand, stroking himself to take a bit of the edge off and to slick himself up, before he’s holding himself in his hand and guiding it to Bucky’s entrance.

He presses his mouth against Bucky’s slightly opened one as he slips into him, groaning at the tight heat and the way Bucky gives a loud high pitched whine. 

And once he’s bottomed out, fully seated inside the brunet, he can’t help himself, quick to pull out and snap his hips back against Bucky, taking immense pleasure in the way the nails of Bucky’s right hand raked down the pale skin of Steve’s back, leaving red lines in their wake.

He pounds into Bucky, listening to the whimpers and moans that the older makes, and he’s desperate to hear more, so he tugs his hips closer and immediately Bucky’s crying out as he nails those bundle of nerves dead on, so Steve shifts just a bit to make it easier to hit them every time he bottoms out, every time he sinks back in, and the way Bucky’s gasping and tightening around him, he knows it won’t be long at all until he comes.

And sure enough, it isn’t a few moments later until Bucky’s whimpering and whining, biting at his dark red mouth. “S-Steve- _ah!_ I’m going to- to- _hah, nng-_ come, _fuck!_ Steve, gonna come-!”

And it takes another dead on nail to his prostate, that has Bucky keening as he tumbles over the edge, covering both of their chests and stomachs in ropes of white, and it isn’t long, with the way he’s tightening around him, until Steve’s following him, hips stuttering to a stop as he empties into the condom, sagging forward to rest his weight against Bucky. 

He’s not sure how long they sit there, but Bucky’s running his fingers through Steve’s damp hair in a soothing manner, and his heart feels full when he presses a kiss to Bucky’s throat. Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he pulls away, holding the base of the condom as he slips out of Bucky, giving him a sympathetic kiss when he whines softly at the empty feeling, before he ties the condom and tosses it in the trash bin. Bending over, he tugs his boxers back on, before picking up Bucky’s underwear and helping him into them, before helping him into Steve’s sweatpants. Grabbing a towel from the hook next to the sink, he wets it under the faucet and cleans them both up, before tossing it in the sink.

Resting his hands on Bucky’s hips, he tugs him forward, wrapping his arms around his waist, and liking the way Bucky’s own arms come to wrap around his neck almost naturally.

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning forward to brush his mouth against Bucky’s, and almost melting in relief when he responds with a gentle press of his mouth, whispering a small “hi,” against his lips. “I really do like the haircut,” Steve’s eyes crinkle and sparkle with laughter, and Bucky gives a soft laugh of his own.

"Yeah, I got that, punk.” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, trailing his hand up to run through Bucky’s damp curls.

“I forgot how much your hair curls.” Bucky shrugs, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“It was time for a change, I think.” And even though his short hair reminds him so much of the war, Steve can’t help but agree that the haircut was most definitely a change.

A welcomed change.


End file.
